Echoes in Every Stroke

Together with artist Low Puay Hua , Zhang ChunLei , Vincent Chua, Chew Swee Fah , Jong Lee Kee , Kevin Tan, we arrived in Kathmandu with a big and small backpack, folding easels, and a heart full of wonder. Many of us had long dreamt to explore Nepal and dreaming of painting the mountains where the sky touched eternity and the unique scene of this city. Some had been in Nepal a few times before and longing to return and return.

We are excited to wander through narrow alleys where incense drifted from temples, prayer flags fluttered, and market stalls overflowed with colors as vivid as any painter’s palette.

We set up our easels in Durbar Square, where pigeons wheeled overhead and prayer flags tangled in the breeze. Our brushes could hardly keep pace with the swirl of crimson saris, brass pots glinting in sun, and the saffron robes of monks moving like flames through the crowd. Some of us sketched quickly, trying to capture the rhythm of everyday life before it vanished into the bustle. Most days even we hided under the shade, hot scratching sun can be unbearable. I admired the spirit of many of us did not stop their brushes. The deep passion to capture old architectural buildings and the authentic scene kept us going.

School Children gathered, curious, whispering and giggling to surround us as we captured the surrounding. Many young Monks in maroon robes passed by and watched.

After a tiring day, in evening we gathered to have cold beer, local food and discussed on our day interesting discovery and experiences.

Nepal artist Narayan Gurung President of International Water Colour Society had been so kind to bring us to Kolkana Village to capture the rice field and the villager’s life. Brought us to local art shop (most are from India) to explore the paint and brushes that often attracts our purchase.

Each hour was a new painting, each brushstroke a meditation. All of us learned patience, because the mountains and the temple could not be rushed; they revealed themselves slowly, in fragments of cloud and bursts of color.

When we finally left Nepal, our canvases and papers were heavy with ink and paint, but our heart was lighter. We had not only painted the land—we had lived inside its light.

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